The Beautiful Downfall - An Aiba Masaki Fanfic (Chapter 9/?)
Pairing: Aiba Masaki x Kusunoki Shion (OC)
Rating: R for whole series, PG-13 for Ch.9
Genre: Romance, Mystery Drama
Word count: 1,983
Plot: Aiba Masaki (29) is the CEO of Yamakaze Hotels, Japan's top hotel chain. What began as a search for a secretary turns into a life-changing matter when he meets candidate Kusunoki Shion (26). As Shion challenges Aiba to question the only world he's ever known, she keeps to herself a dark secret that must remain undisclosed.
Author's Notes: Thanks for stopping by to read my fanfic! :D I have two ongoing series: this one, and Eyes Like Honey (Sakurai Sho fanfic). I beganThe Beautiful Downfall with a clear concept: I wanted to write a dark, DoS Masaki. ;) From there, I jotted down a rough storyline which became The Beautiful Downfall. Each chapter is relatively and deliberately short (under 2,000 words), so they are quicker reads than my other fanfics. Although I'm not sure how many chapters will be in this series, I hope you'll stick around to the end! ❤
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8
Chapter 9: The Worth of a Secretary
My body reacted before my mind could catch up, and when it finally did, I was straddling the man with my hand holding his face down on the cold, marble floor.
There was now a name and face to the crime. So, he's the guy. He's the man who had crushed and bruised her wrists. I took a good look at him and knew that he had an agenda.
--
I stood there behind the podium, looking out into a sea of faces full of awe and adoration. Your wife shamelessly grabbed my arm and pushed her DDs against me, you know. And your fiancée has been darting seductive glances my way all night. What cheap tricks stupid women play in order to marry money and status. I scanned the ballroom. There was only one face I wanted to see, only one woman I cared to find.
But, she was nowhere to be found.
I looked around the room once more. Just then, I spotted Matsumoto doing the same thing. He looked my way apologetically and I instantly knew he had lost sight of her, too. My mind began sorting through the faces I had seen tonight. When I scanned the audience once more, I noticed who else was missing. My instincts told me to abandon responsibility and save her, but my calm, rational brain kept me poised at the podium. I had prepared a speech, and I was the host of this event. With my right hand, I pulled out a piece of paper from inside my suit jacket, adjusted the mic, and began speaking.
And yet, my mind was racing about something else completely. Who the hell is he? I had never met him before on any occasion; how could he have possibly added his name to the guest list? More importantly, why does he know Kusunoki? During our introductions earlier, I noticed that Kusunoki's eyes filled with contempt and fear, that she, subconsciously or not, took a small step back as he made his way toward us. Instinctively, I stepped forward to stand between the two. Though I didn’t know my enemy well, I knew I was the only one who could protect her.
--
"Matsumoto, send the Akasaka location a Code 49."
"As you wish, Young Master."
Kusunoki said not a word in the car. As we drove passed rows of neon signs and sidewalks full of tired businessmen and women, I debated whether or not to ask her about this Kinoshita fellow. When I glanced over at her, she was staring at her fingers. Her exposed collarbones moved gently with her breath, the line of her neck looking tired from holding up her strong-willed mind. I was confused and skeptical, but after what had happened, I felt it would be tactless of me to bombard her with questions. Before long, Matsumoto parked the car at the valet parking curb.
"Follow me," I ordered Kusunoki. "Matsumoto, call me when you're ready."
"As you wish," he bowed.
The automatic doors opened and the concierge at the reception desk greeted us in.
"Aiba-sama, everything is ready for you."
"Thanks."
I pressed the button for the 49th floor as the elevator doors closed in front of us. Then, for the first time since we left the party, Kusunoki opened her mouth.
"Sir."
"Yeah."
"Where are we going?"
"The 49th floor."
"......"
With the sound of a bell, the doors opened once again.
"Come on."
"What is this...?" She stepped out of the elevator, completely confused by the situation.
"Hey, Mukai," I raised my hand at the man behind the bar counter.
"Welcome, Aiba-sama."
"...Sir?"
I chuckled at her apprehensive glances. "It's called a Code 49 because this is the 49th floor."
"With all due respect, sir, that is the last piece of information for which I am looking." Her words were borderline insulting, but no matter.
"A Code 49 means I've just rented out this whole floor."
Her eyes widened slightly. "What?"
"Here. Have a seat." I gestured at a counter stool as I took a seat in the one next to it. "Mukai, a glass of red wine for me."
"Certainly. And for you?"
She hesitated to order anything, glancing my way as if to ask for approval.
"Do you drink?" I asked.
"Very rarely."
I surveyed her expression for a while. For what had happened earlier, she seemed quite composed. But if there's one thing I've come to learn about her, it was that her eyes were incapable of lying.
"You deserve a drink tonight," I encouraged. "How about a red?"
I could tell she was thinking about it, but I waited for her to come to a decision herself.
"I'll have a glass of the same."
"Very well," Mukai bowed.
I turned around in my bar seat to face her. The same thought returned to bother me. I had a choice: either I could ask her about the man, or I could choose to ignore it all. But, upon seeing her face, she made the decision for me.
"Here is your wine." Mukai placed two, identical drinks on the counter and excused himself into the kitchen.
"Sir?"
"Yeah."
"Why are we here?"
See? Asking such a rhetorical question a smart woman like you needn't ask? If an obvious lie is what you want from me, I’ll let you have it.
"I wanted to get away from the crowd."
"......"
Don't look so concerned. You're the one who asked that question.
"Are you hungry?"
There was a brief pause. "No, I'm fine."
A lie for a lie, I see.
"I've only called a Code 49 twice. This is my second time."
"When was the first time?"
"A year after my father's death. I guess it was more like a Code Akasaka."
"You mean..."
"The whole place was reserved for friends and family to celebrate and honor his life."
"I see."
I swirled the wine glass in my hand and inhaled to fill my lungs with its aroma. After taking a sip, I continued.
"Ironically, I was celebrating his death."
She glanced over with inquisitive eyes.
"He was no father to me."
"I'm sorry to hear that, sir."
"I didn't want his business or lifestyle, but my life was never mine. My title is proof of that," I laughed at myself disdainfully.
"What?" The brown pupils of her eyes flickered.
"I wanted to be an athlete, a baseball or basketball player."
"I see..."
"But look at me now. I'm still my father's marionette." I took a sip of my wine to cleanse my palate of the contempt I felt for him.
"You're not!" I flinched in response to her clear, verbal opposition. Her eyes grew wider for a brief moment before looking away toward her untouched wine glass. Then, she repeated the same words, but this time, almost a whisper. "You're not..."
"Well, thanks for the encouragement, even if it was to flatter me."
"Sir."
"What?"
"As far as I have seen, you're a brilliant man and an exceptional CEO."
"Right, who has terrible taste in neckties, doesn't know how to take care of his suits or shoes, and treats women like dirt."
"But people love you. They want to work for you, with you. That's the greatest sign of your success as a leader."
"I would have traded all this for nothing if it meant having a real father figure in my life." It was a long time coming, but I can laugh about it now.
She let out a small sigh and looked deeply hurt. It was an expression I had never seen from her before. Like that time at the amusement park, my hand moved on its own accord. My fingers reached for the strands of hair in her face and tucked them neatly behind her ear. I heard a small, surprised gasp as her big eyes captured me. It was a cry for help, but I wasn't sure from what.
"Why are you so nice to me, sir?" she whispered.
"Hm?"
"Why did you help me earlier?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"You could have gotten hurt..."
I let out a sigh. "So, you expect me to watch a woman getting physically abused and do nothing?"
"......"
"Besides, I'm no stranger to threats."
"Oh, you heard..."
"It comes with the territory. If I had a nickel for every enemy I’ve made throughout the years…” I chuckled. “I guess I’d be a millionaire regardless.”
She paused and looked as though the words were stuck in her throat. She looked so uncomfortable. "Sir, Kinoshita-san is--"
"I don't trust people's opinions about others.”
"...What?"
"Magazines touted my father as a brilliant mastermind, but those people don't know what I know. Matsumoto looks put together but I know he gets nervous easily. Nino comes off like a lone wolf but I know he's actually afraid of being lonely."
"......"
"I don't know your relationship with that Kinoshita guy, but I'm not going to judge you based on his opinions of you."
"Sir..."
"The Kusunoki I know is a strong woman with a snarky mouth. Her worth lies in what I see and know."
"......"
"Hey."
"Yes, sir?" When she looked up to meet my gaze, her eyes were brimming with tears. I could tell she was fighting them back.
"Do you know how many women want to work for me?"
She let out a short, audible exhale as her expression began to soften. "Is that a trick question?"
"But who got the job?"
"...I did, sir."
I swirled the remaining wine in my hand as I watched the crimson liquid spin delightfully along the sides of the glass.
"Are you not proud of that?"
"Excuse me?"
"Of the sea of women available to me, I chose you. Don't you think that counts for something?"
Just then, along with a tiny chuckle, a single tear rolled down her left cheek like morning dew on a blade of grass. She looked down so I wouldn't notice. I tilted my head toward the ceiling and pretended I didn't see a thing. Instead, I stood up from my bar stool and stood in front of her. How strange. A woman's tears meant nothing to me until moments ago. A crying woman was a stupid woman.
"Doesn't she make you second-guess everything you've ever known about life?"
As Nino's words echoed in my head, my right arm reached behind her back as my hand rested on her bare shoulder. I didn't want to frighten her after what had happened, but I also wanted her to know that touch could be a positive and powerful thing, that a comforting shoulder could give her courage and strength. Slowly, I pulled her body in toward me. Her head rested against me, face buried in my chest. Soon, I heard a sniffle.
"So, you do know how to cry," I chuckled as I held her there.
"...S...ir..." Her voice shook as she called to me.
"Hm?"
"Y...our suit... I'm ruining it..." She tried to pull away, so I pulled her in closer with my arm.
"I'm the CEO and your boss. I think I can afford a dry cleaning bill," I laughed.
Her body shook a little and I knew she chuckled back.
"No wonder your previous secretaries were fired." Her voice sounded muffled against my chest.
"Hm?"
"You should be careful, sir. A stupid woman would have misunderstood your chivalrous kindness for romantic interest."
I laughed a short laugh through my nose. "That's my luck with women. The smart ones don't fall for me."
"How do you know that?"
"Case in point."
"What...?"
She lifted her head from my chest and looked up at my defeated smile. Just then, I felt my cell phone buzz in my suit pocket. Although I knew who it was, and though it was I who ordered him to call, I almost wished I hadn't.